


The Angel Games

by angelmoose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:50:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1305481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelmoose/pseuds/angelmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Hunger games AU.<br/>Sam and Dean Winchester are brothers from district 13, who live with their mother and abusive father. This year is also the 74th year of the Angel Games, which were set up to stop humans from uprising against the angels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

My family is my strength and my weakness. - Aishwarya Rai Bachchan 

Chapter 1 - The Beginning 

 

The cabin was quiet as Sam padded along the wooden floor in threadbare socks. The fire was out in the kitchen and the sun was barely rising over the horizon. Sam sat down on the kitchen chair, drawing his knees into his chest. He rested his chin on his knees and looked out of the window, staring down the hill and toward the town. Even now he could see them setting up, they looked like little white ants scurrying around the square. 

The sun was just over the horizon now, pale red clouds flickered across the sky. Sam could still making out the morning star twinkling softly before it was engulfed by the sun light. 

"Red Sky at night, shepherds delight. Red Sky in the morning, sailors warning." Sam twisted on the chair and saw his mother standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She was wrapped in a thin dressing gown, blonde hair unruly around her face. Sam smiled at her but stayed silent. 

She walked gently over and pulled out the chair next to Sam. He watched her, she was graceful but certain in her movements. She bit her lip and looked over at her Son. Sam was sat curled up on the chair, lanky limbs pulled tight. His mop of brown hair messy on his head, hazel eyes wide. 

"Hey little one, how are you feeling?" 

"Tired." Sam's voice was soft, barely a whisper. "I don't like today." Mary placed her hand on top of Sam's head and stroked the soft curls at the top of his neck where it met his skull. Sam stayed still leaning into his mothers hand. 

The sun was now fully over the horizon casting a golden light over the land and forests of district 12. Sam could make out the grey smoke from the mines wafting gently through the air. Ravens cawed outside the house, their song grating on the back of Sam's mind. 

They watched the white shape moving around in the town, setting things up and organizing the screens. Dean walked into the kitchen and slumped onto a chair. 

His face was drawn and pale, the usual spark in his eyes was gone. He blinked in the morning light and smiled grimly at his family. 

Sam observed his brother from underneath his eye lashes. He was broad shouldered but lean, green eyes that shone in the sunlight and hair that glowed golden brown. He had a shadowing of stubble on his jaw line, accentuating its angles. 

Dean caught him staring and grinned at him, "Alright Sammy?". His voice was deep and gruff from sleep. 

"Yeah, you?" Sam's voice was less quiet now. Mary got up and went to set a pot of water on the stove. 

"Yeah I'm fine, ready for today?" Sam shook his head. Dean bit his lip and looked over his younger brother, still sitting hunched over in his chair. 

Mary pottered around, pulling down a jar of oats and setting them on the counter. She pulled out 3 chipped bowls and set them down next to the stove. Steam began to rise from the water, flushing her face red. 

Dean got up and went to help, stirring in the oats while Mary cleaned some spoons from last night. Sam cleared the table. It was a regular family scene, the children helping the mother, but everything was done with an air of melancholy. 

John stomped into the room, big and broad, he dropped into a chair. His face was lined with dirt and wrinkles.Hhis presence altered the mood slightly, it was still down-heartened, but it was now tense. Mary chewed her bottom lip more, worrying it between her teeth. Hands shaking slightly she pulled out another bowl. Sam gently took it from her hands and set it to the side and went to clean another spoon. 

"Good morning John." Mary said, voice small. 

"Hmmph." John grunted in reply. Mary smiled quickly and turned back to the porridge which Dean was stirring. She added more oats to the mix carefully and took the spoon from Dean. 

"Dean take Sam and go get some mint from the garden." 

Dean nodded and quickly grabbed Sam's arm and yanked him from the kitchen and out the back door. They could hear John get up and make his way over to Mary but they couldn't see what was going on. 

"Come on Sammy." Dean held Sam's arm more gently and walked to the herb garden. Crouching down he began to strip the mint plant of some leaves. 

"Dean, do you think we will get picked?" Sam looked at his brother, eyes wide but he had set his shoulders back, trying to appear brave. Dean ruffled his hair. 

"Nah, I don't think so." He smiled quickly and stood up next to his brother, knees clicking from the awkward position. 

"Okay. Dean dad's drunk again." 

"How do you know?" 

"I could smell it on him." 

Dean shaded his eyes against the sun and looked toward the house. He nodded in agreement. "Yeah I guess he is. Don't piss him off Sam." 

"I try not to De." 

Dean began to walk back to the house, mint leaves clutched tightly in his palm. Sam bent down and picked a sprig of lavender for their mother, knowing that she would want it in her tea. 

The house was darker, and the boys blinked as their eyes adjusted. Walking into the kitchen they saw their father eating a large portion of the oats. Mary was serving up the other dishes. Dean placed the mint next to her, and took a seat. Sam placed the lavender with the mint as well. Mary glanced at it and smiled at her son. 

"Let me serve mama." John snorted at the pet name that Sam used. Mary passed the spoon and stroked his cheek. 

"Thank you Sammy." She went and took a seat. Sam turned back to the porridge, ignoring his fathers comments. Sam liked serving the food, he could make sure his mother got enough food and Dean, often leaving a small portion for himself. Not that he minded. 

Twisting around he gave Dean his breakfast and passed Mary hers, He mixed the mint leaves in another pan of water and set it on the stove to heat up. Taking the empty seat he began to eat. 

"Big day, eh boys?" remarked John. 

"Yes Sir." Dean responded, back straight. Sam stayed silent. 

"Sam?" Johns voce was clipped. Dean glanced up at his brother, willing him to respond. 

"Yes." 

"Yes what?" John's voice was terse. 

"Yes Sir." Sam mumbled back. Dean let out a soft groan under his breath. 

John dropped his spoon on the table, where it clattered to the floor. Sam stared back at his father meeting his eyes levelly. John stared at him for a long time and Sam never broke eye contact. 

"Get out." John growled. "Get out of this house." 

"John..." Mary started. 

"Be quiet!" shouted John. Mary shrunk back. Sam stood up and pushed his chair away from the table with a squeak. 

"Fine." 

Head held high he stalked out of the room. Dean followed his brother's movements with his gaze. 

"Dean stay seated." 

Dean stayed where he was. Sam walked out the door and shut it behind him. As soon as he heard the latch close he visibly relaxed. The sunlight was warm on his face as he trotted down to the forest. 

Dean was biting the inside of his cheeks. He hated when Sam had to leave, especially on today. John continued eating, not noticing the stony silence around him. Dean picked up his spoon and started to eat but he had lost his appetite. 

Mary got up and stirred the tea. Realizing it was done she poured it into some metal mugs. Setting them down on the table, John grabbed it and downed it. 

"I'm off." He grunted and followed Sam's footsteps out of the house. 

Mary bowed her head and sank into her chair. "Eat up Dean, you need your strength today." 

"Sam didn't eat anything again." 

"I know." Concern etched itself over her face. "He hardly does." 

"I'll talk to him about it." Dean finished his meal and sipped the tea. "Where do you think he would of gone?" 

"Probably to the forest." 

Dean nodded and set both his and Sam's bowls in the sink. He touched his mother on the shoulder and smiled softly at her,. "I'll bring him home before." 

"Thank you Dean." She looked over to where the lavender floor was left by the stove, slightly wilted now. 

Dean shrugged on his jacket and boots. He pulled the door open and shut it carefully behind him. 

The sunlight was warm as Dean trudged toward the chain link fence. The forest behind was dark and alive. Dean pulled up the corner of the fence and slipped beneath it. 

Sam had turned over the stone just beyond the fence, just like Dean had taught him, leaving the dark earthy side facing the sky, Dean paused and surveyed the area. Taking off at a jog he headed slightly to the left. 

Sam wasn't too far away, staying well hidden in the undergrowth, he was crouched by a brook. Dean could her the gentle flow of water over rocks. 

"Sammy?" Dean whispered. 

Sam peered over his shoulder and beckoned Dean forward. Dean slipped down next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Sam leaned into him. 

"Dean I try but he always picks on me." he murmured. 

"I know you do." Dean looked up at the trees, watching their branches swaying in the breeze. "I know you don’t mean to but just try not to push him anymore." 

"He wants me to get picked." 

"No he doesn’t Sammy. Why would you say that?" 

"I heard him telling mom." Dean stared. "Last night when you were out, he was talking about it. He said I hope he does because it'll teach him to man up." 

"But you would die!" 

"All the better for him then, at least he won't have to deal with me." Sam's voice cracked. 

"Sam..."Dean clutched his brother closer. "No. I wont let you go there. Not alone anyway." 

"I know you wouldn’t but couldn't come could you?" 

Dean stayed silent. Gripping his brother's shoulder hard he could feel the bone protruding there. "Sam, you aren't eating enough again." 

"I know." 

"You need to eat Sam." Dean looked down at his brother, he looked small against Dean' shoulder. 

Both brothers stayed silent, watching the water pass in the stream. Sam rested his head on Dean's chest. 

"Awh Sammy." Dean wrapped both of his arms round his brother pulling him closer. Sam slipped his arms tight around Dean. 

Suddenly the forest was being shaken by the wind from giant helicopter blades. Looking up a giant silver hovercraft was flaying low over the trees. 

"Time to go home Sammy." 

Pulling his brother up, they raced back home, diving under the chain link fence. Racing along the paths they managed to get home. 

"Mom?" Dean called. 

"I'm here boys." She sighed appearing in the doorway. Both boys raced into her outstretched arms. She pulled her boys close and kissed their heads. 

"Get dressed now." She croaked, voice thick with tears. Dean kissed her cheek and Sam did the same. 

She watched them as the walked next to each other down the hall to their room. Dean with his arm wrapped round Sam's shoulder. Dean was still the tallest, Sam coming just at his shoulder. She pressed her hand to her lips, fighting back tears. every year she was at risk of losing one of her two boys. 

Heart heavy she went to fix her hair. She stared at her reflection in the little mirror by the door. Her face was lined with sadness, eyes glassy with unshed tears. 

Wiping her eyes, she waited for her sons to come back out. 

 

Sam pulled his shirt over his head and Dean was horrified at the bruises and how skinny his brother was. 

"Sam?" Dean tapped him, he spun round clutching his shirt to his chest. 

"Don't tell anyone Dean." Dean nodded seeing the fear in his brothers eyes. He continued to get dressed, not commenting on his brothers physique. 

Sam glanced at Dean when he was turned around. He was all lean muscle from working in the fields, Sam had lean muscle too but was more gaunt than his elder brother and he hated that. He wanted to look like Dean. Everyone liked Dean better. 

Sam took a deep breath in. "Ready Sammy?" 

Sam nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be." 

They walked back of the room together. 

"There are my handsome boys." Mary smiled at them both. Dean bent down to tie his shoes, he noticed Sam's weren't done up. 

"Lace's Sammy." Sam stared down. 

"Oh." He started to bend down. 

"Here let me do them baby boy." Dean began to loop Sam's laces together. "At least then they wont come undone." Mary watched them, she marveled at how unlike John Dean was and how much Sam trusted him. They were so close and she was glad that they had one another. He finished and ruffled Sam's hair. Sam let out a laugh and batted Dean's hands away. Mary smiled with them and laughed softly at their dispute. 

All to soon the smiles drained from their faces. Dean spoke out first. 

"Lets get this over with." 

All three turned and walked out of the door. Leaving the smiles behind in the house.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reaping 
> 
> Thanks to Potterwholocktrekian for helping me write this chapter, as well as my friend Luce. You two are stars x

Chapter 2 - The Reaping

The path down to the town center was well trodden. It was potholed and uneven, so all three walkers had to pay attention to where their feet landed. There were more clouds billowing across the sky now, hiding the sun behind a grey fog, but it was still bright and warm for once. They walked in a formation, Mary s lightly i n front of her boys, Dean slightly behind her and then Sam brought up the rear. If it had been any other day, there would've been bickering from the two sons and  laughter from Mary, but  today was not just any other day.

It was the reaping day of the 74th annual Angel Games. 

So the trio walked in a subdued silence, thinking to themselves. Mary was distraught , as she was every year , at the thought of losing her two sons and who would blame her? The chances of both her boys being taken away from her were slim but you just didn't know. She hoped that this year it would be someone else.

Dean was trying not to think about it, he had to be strong for Sam. He was scared but he didn't want to worry anyone, and Sam? He was terrified. His shoulders sagged down and his face was dull. 

The air was silent when they reached the town. There were no children playing, no adults walking and talking to each other. It was a ghost town, except for the fact everyone was still there but shocked into a silence by the prospect of today.

Just before they reached the town square Mary turned to face her boys. "Now remember, whatever happens, I love you both so much." She didn't mention John as she knew that neither son cared. She looked over her two boys fondly, it was often that they were apart and she knew that Dean would take care of Sam no matter what happened. 

"I love you too." Sam went to hug his mother, wrapping his scrawny arms around her. Mary kissed the top of his head and stroked his hair. Sam stepped back and Dean went forward to hug his mum.

"I love you, take care of yourself." Dean swallowed hard, he said that every year because he knew that it may very well be him going into the arena. Mary hugged her eldest son, eyes wet with tears.  A solider dressed in white rounded the bend.

Pul ling back Mary fixed a smile on her face. "Be strong boys." Dean nodded and pulled Sam with him, leaving Mary behind as the soldier ushered her to her place.  

Walking out into the glare of the floodlit square was daunting. Sam could barely see the clouds and patches o f blue sky through the harsh light. When he was little he had always asked Dean why they had lit the area and Dean had always told Sam to be quiet and not ask silly questions. 

Now though Sam realized it was so every detail and every emotion could be picked up and  transmitted straight to the Capitol. 

There were long lines snaking around the square, children queued waiting for the ir turn to be marked in. Sam and Dean filled onto a smaller queue off to the side of the square and waited patiently for their turn. It was quiet, except for the occasional cough or sneeze and shuffling of feet. Dean looked over toward the stage, one giant bowl had been set out and in it sat the names of every child between the ages of 6 and  18. 

Sam followed Dean's gaze, eyes steadily fixing on the bowl. He only sighed and turned to face the back of the kid in front of them. Dean turned to face the front too, losing himself in his thoughts.

They all moved mechanically forward, shuffling until they reached the sign - in desk. Sam held out his hand and they pricked it, rec ording the blood sample. Dean did the same, wincing slightly when they grabbed his hand and jabbed him too hard. 

They walked away and were ushered into a roped off section with all the other boys. Dean nodded at a couple of them and took his place, hand resting on Sam's shoulder , insuring they could not be  separated. Th ey waited, the harsh glare of the lights irritating their eyes. 

Once everyone had been registered everything fell silent. No one moved or dared to breathe loudly. 

A resounding boom echoed across the square, bouncing back of the buildings sounding like a gunshot.  A man walked out, he was fairly tall and wore a long beige trench coat. He tapped the microphone, it whined and shrieked as the soldiers tried to sort out the acoustics. Another man nodded and the gentlemen on stage began to talk, his voice slow and deep. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to the District 12 Reaping of the 74th Annual Angel Games! As you know, the names of all the potential tributes have been placed in this bowl, some more than once. Shall we begin?" The man on the stage delved his hand among the white slips of paper, taking an agonizingly long time to choose. Eventually, after what felt like hours, his hand surfaced, bringing with it a single slip.   
"Samuel Winchester!" The man called out, the name ricocheting around the square, hitting Dean like a bullet.  He turned to look at Sam, who had turned a deathly shade of white. 

No. No. No. "No!" Dean cried. His heart shattering, not his Sam . Anyone but Sam. Sam turned to face him, eyes so wide they bulged out of his head. 

"Samuel, please come forward." The crowd in front of Sam began to part. Sam began to walk forward. Dean stared after him, heart pounding against his chest. 

"No! Sam!" Dean pushed against the people around him trying to desperately reach his brother. Sam spun round. 

"Dean don't." 

"No." He looked up at the man on Stage. "I volunteer. I volunteer instead of him." The man blinked and then nodded.

"Well okay then. What's your name young man?"

"Dean. Dean Winchester."  Dean swallowed hard. He was vaguely aware that his face was plastered over the big projectors in the square. He his eyes to Sam, who stood mouth open. 

"Go back to Mum Sam." Dean walked forward and bent down to meet Sam's eyes.

"No...Dean..." 

"Dean? Could you please make your way up here?" The man's voice was clipped. Dean began to walk again, eyes trained on the ground ahead of him. He prayed Sam wouldn't do something stupid. 

"Vessel! I volunteer as a vessel!" Dean span round on his heels.  No oh god no. 

"Very well." the man on stage beckoned Sam forward. A soldier grabbed Dean's arm and marched him onstage. 

"No!" A voice shrieked from the audience. A woman came running out of the crowd and Dean could just make out his mothers face. She was running toward them. "NO!"

Their neighbo r , raced forward and caught Mary by the waist and pulled her back into the crowd. She was crying loudly, loud enough for Dean to be able to make out that she was chanting. "Not both of them. Oh God not both of them." 

Dean met his brothers eyes and as he stared he saw his brothers heart shatter and his brown eyes became dull, the spark going right out of them. Dean knew that the same expression that was written across Sam's face, was also reflected in his own. 

The went and stood beside the man onstage. "Well done boys." He turned and addressed the entire crowd. "Here we have your two tributes. Sam and Dean Winchester, brothers no doubt?" The crowd stayed silent. "Nevertheless, these two young men shall be  your tributes!" The man swe pt off the stage and Dean looked out at the crowd.

Faces began to mix with faces until they were just a blur of colo r . Dean blinked back his tears and glanced down at the bowl, another name card lay beside his name.  Poppy John.  Dean knew her, of rather knew of her. She was only 7.

And despite everything that was going on, despite how his death was imminent the thought that Poppy was saved gave Dean enough strength to turn round and walk toward the double doors of the Town Hall and seal his fate. 


End file.
